Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise (-5), I’m going to have a leisurely catch-up lunch with my grade-school friend Margaret on Sunday.

I have not seen Margaret in 33 years.

My 2013 relationship with her is an excellent example of the kind of thing I consider when I realize I’m probably not ever going to leave Facebook.

I started looking around on Urbanspoon for where we might spend our time together, and thought it might be a splendid occasion for cocktails, but guess what? Anniston remains dry on Sunday—even in restaurants.

Now I’m certain Brother Thomas is a fine fellow, who knows, for the most part, how to treat his fellow human being. I’m further certain he’s conveyed that to any children he may have, which gives me hope for the future.

Finally, I’m certain he’s badly wrapped around the axle on the issue of alcohol consumption. (Probably gambling and a couple of others, too.) He may even send evangelical warriors out to knock on doors, who invariably lead with fire and brimstone when someone answers.

Mr. Moates, check it out: Christianity is properly about being the hands and feet of Jesus Christ. It’s also about salvation. To determine exactly what those two things are, just spend some time reading about what He said and did.

Everything else is noise.

Margaret, I’m so looking forward to seeing you. I’m sorry we can’t have a drink. It’s a disappointment, but a minor one. See you soon.

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